Farewell
by Prospero Hibiki
Summary: As I sit in my kitchen staring hard at a full glass of vodka I remember a conversation we had during our first case. "Why would the universe make fun of us all?" "Maybe it's insecure." It would explain a lot. Like why I want a piece of fruit. I hate fruit.


Farewell

Author: Prospero Hibiki

Disclaimer: Life characters are the property of Universal Media Studios, Rand Ravich and the NBC Network. In no way are these aforementioned characters being used for my own personal profit, and this is not meant as an infringement of the copyright owned by any of the above entities.

Timeline: Starts three months after One.

Spoilers: Everything is fair game

Classification: That would be telling. Let's file it under General/Hurt/Comfort at the moment.

Rating: M

Summary: As I sit in my kitchen staring hard at a full glass of vodka I remember a conversation we had during our first case. "Why would the universe make fun of us all?" "Maybe it's insecure." It would explain a lot. Like why I want a piece of fruit. I hate fruit.

Author's Comments: Just watched Badge Bunny and the idea for this story struck me. Points to you if you are willing to watch it and figure out which part.

0.0

"Farewell"

0.0

I hate wearing my dress uniform. I'm told I wear it well. Doesn't matter. I still hate wearing it for one simple reason. I only seem to wear it for funerals. Sad isn't it.

Standing in the cemetery I can't help but look to see how few people are really here. It pisses me off to no end. I think that it's this moment that truly cements my opinion of the LAPD. We're most of us not worth the metal used to make our badges.

No, that's not really fair. There's quite a few really good cops out there. But they are out there. They're not here because they've been poisoned by the bad cops they look up to. Because those bad cops. They are here. They're the ones in charge and it pisses me the fuck off.

I used to think that Tidwell was one of the good cops, and he might in fact be one, but he's been tainted by whatever deals he made when he came to LA from New York. I also think he might have made some sort of deal to protect me and Crews after the kidnapping. It makes him a good man, but I don't know if he's a good cop anymore. Is it sad that the only people here I think I can trust are Bobby Stark, Ted Earley, and Rachel Seybolt? And I'm not too certain about Stark.

Crews would probably have some Zen quip about birds or some shit, but I'm not feeling very Zen about this.

I'm not feeling very Zen at all.

There's no body in the coffin they're lowering into the ground. Everyone knows it. I don't even know why they're bothering with it in the first place. Appearances I guess. Which when you think about it is exactly what this whole funeral is about. Appearances. They don't actually care. They didn't even wait for the funeral itself before offering me a choice between a transfer and a permanent sabbatical. I expected it. We all did. And we also all knew which one I'd take. No real choice really. With a transfer to Narcotics as a virtual death sentence for a recovering addict the sabbatical was the only real option. We were right about that too.

Damn, I hate it when Crews is right.

We had a talk the weekend after the kidnapping. It wasn't one of our usual talks where nothing is actually said but things are still understood. We actually talked. About everything. All the things we'd hidden from each other. I learned about the great conspiracy and its involvement in the Bank of Los Angeles shootout. My father's role in things. Rayborn's role in things.

We talked about my drinking and my relationship with Tidwell. Funny how even after all that time I never really thought of him as Kevin. Even when I called him that I still thought of him as Tidwell.

I guess I should admit that we didn't talk about _everything._ There was in fact one thing we quite specifically didn't talk about. We avoided the topic but we both knew. We both knew it was there. You don't try to hold your partner's hand as he trades himself for you. You don't trade yourself for your partner with no plan for getting yourself out. We didn't say the word but we both knew it was there underneath the surface.

Tidwell wasn't surprised when I broke it off with him the following Monday. I'd distanced myself from him enough that he could see it coming. I think he was surprised though that he couldn't see any signs that I was shacking up with Crews. It's not that Crews and I were better at hiding it. There just wasn't anything to see. It wasn't time yet.

0.0

I've already changed into my dress for the wake. There's no way in hell I'm going to wear my uniform to it. Just doesn't seem right.

I should probably go there now but instead I'm sitting at my kitchen counter staring at a glass of vodka I just poured. I don't know why I even had the vodka here. I shouldn't. It's too much of a temptation. I know this.

Crews would probably be disappointed in me if he could see me now. But he can't see me now. Instead it's just me and this glass of vodka staring at each other.

It's mocking me. It's kind of like the universe. On our first case Crews told the guards in the prison that it's the universe that makes fun of us all. When I asked him why, his explanation explained a lot. "Maybe it's insecure."

Maybe it's that simple. I don't want to drink right now. I don't need to drink right now. And so I won't. I pour both the glass and bottle down the drain of the sink.

As I walk towards the door I pick up a pear from the bowl of fruit on the counter. I probably won't eat it. I hate fruit. But who knows. Maybe.

0.0

This place was both where I should be and wasn't at the same time. Fitting really. The restaurant side of the place is closed for the night, but if it were open it'd be serving Indian food. I think it'd be Indian food at least. I've never been able to keep the schedule straight. The cuisine changes from day to day. I have no idea what Ted was thinking of when he came up with the concept, but in the year it's been in business _Zen-ish_ has become one of _the_ spots to eat amongst the in-crowd. Guest chefs show up to show off and the food is always spectacular as I've learned from experience. But none of that matters tonight because the kitchen is closed except for what's needed to make appetizer's for the wake.

The bar side of _Zen-ish_ is as packed full as one would expect for the wake of a cop, but that's where the similarities end. There's very few cops here. Probably ten to fifteen at the most and I could probably tell you why each and every one of them are here.

Rivera is a patrolman that was taking fire from some drug dealers when we pulled up in Crews' car a couple of months after we were partnered. We covered him as he made his way to check his downed partner, Kelly Walters. Crews took three bullets to the vest in the process of stopping Walters from bleeding out. She's here as well but she's five months pregnant and her last name's Rivera now too. She's no longer a cop. Instead she's the manager here, something I didn't even know until after I'd eaten here half a dozen times. Funny how that happened isn't it?

The other cops here have similar stories. These are the cops that I wish had been at the funeral. These men and women are the ones who might actually show that the LAPD is worth something. If only they were in charge. Eventually they might be, but probably not. Good cops don't get as far now a days.

Bobby Stark and Jane Seever are in the corner. Stark has been avoiding me because he knows I don't like him all that much. Instead he's been standing guard over Seever who he's been partnered with more and more lately. I can respect that. He's looking out for his partner the way he should have for Crews. And she really needs it because I don't think she's stopped drinking since she got here. Probably before that because I suspect that is why she wasn't at the funeral. She's a good cop, but I don't know how much longer she'll stay that way. Rayborn got her to thin she owes him, and she _feels_ dirty now even if she isn't. Hopefully she'll see that before it's too late.

The other people in the bar are the last ones people would expect to see at a policeman's wake. We've got more than a few gang bangers here. The guys Crews bought a car off of were here for a little while just to drop of the keys. Apparently they just finished the job of fixing the damage Crews did to it by running into Agent Bodner's garage. Crews was fairly well liked despite being _the man_ and had gotten a reputation of being straight with people.

I'm sitting at the bar with a bottle of Perrier watching the crowds of people talk about what a great guy my partner was. As if I need them to tell me that. I was next to him every step of the way. There wasn't a Crews and a Reese, there was only a Crews and Reese.

I wave to the bartender and tell her to keep the drinks flowing for people. We can afford it. Pushing away from the bar I make my way to the back of restaurant where the manager's office is. I know the way pretty well. After all I now own the place. Crews' little joke I guess. What the hell was he thinking leaving a bar to a recovering alcoholic in his will? I fumble with the keys for a few moments before I get the door unlocked and step inside making sure to lock it behind me.

"I like the dress." The voice comes from the chair sitting in front of the video monitors displaying the scene in the bar.

"Thanks."

"But you weren't weeping."

I roll my eyes. "Of course I wasn't weeping. Why the hell would I be weeping?"

"It's my wake. You should be sad. If it were your wake I'd be sad."

"You're not fucking dead! I know you're not fucking dead! Why the hell should I be sad?" I swear to God Crews pisses me off sometimes.

"Those are rather hurtful words Reese."

"I'm not having this conversation with you Crews."

"I'm just saying."

0.0

Rayborn may be an asshole, but he came up with a pretty decent plan. Blood evidence is pretty compelling. If we'd known to look though we could have easily figured it out. Certain chemicals are added to whole blood when it's drawn to keep it from clotting. If anyone had thought to look for them it would have been easy to figure out what had happened. We didn't make that mistake.

It was a simple plan. A couple pints of blood from Crews drawn the morning of and we were set. Just as well that I drove. The scene was staged by some cliffs so it looked like we had been meeting an informant who pulled a gun. Blood at the top of the cliffs and blood at the bottom on rocks surrounded by ocean and we were ready for me to call in shots fired quickly followed by officer down.

Crews was long gone by the time they started searching the water. The area was particularly notorious for its rip currents and they didn't expect to ever find the body. Two days later they called off the search and declared him dead especially since I'd seen him fall and the bloody rocks at the bottom. I spent the entire time with the search parties to sell it. Must have been pretty convincing too because someone sedated me and I woke up in the hospital with Ted sitting vigil. It's a good thing he knew.

0.0

I stick around LA for a few months but I'm mostly a recluse. To the outside world I've holed myself up in Crews' old mansion and come out only to get groceries and check on the restaurant.

In reality I'm working with Crews on building a relationship that isn't based purely on sex. I'd say not based on sex at all but I'm not willing to lie to myself. I do find the man incredibly attractive, and I know the feeling's mutual. We didn't last more than a week before we started to have the type of sex that completely blows a person's mind. Crews blames all the things he read while he was in prison.

Everyone always comments on how huge the house is, but no one ever seems to wonder if there's a basement. There is in fact a basement that spans the entire house and is only accessible from the master bedroom closet where Crews kept his conspiracy wall. That's where he hides out if the security system detects anyone coming. As much as the man hates walls and fences and locks he does understand the benefits of a good security system. After the coyote scare Ted was reassured that if he really wanted to Crews could count each and every living thing larger than a rabbit on the property.

As I leave the mansion I look around it one last time. I don't know if we'll ever come back here. We're going to keep the place, but we're planning on starting over on the East coast. Florida weather should be pretty similar so we're headed there with a week long stop in Vegas. There's a couple of things we need to take care of there.

0.0

End "Farewell"


End file.
